A violin are her vocals.
For her lips speak no words, nor lyrics heard
A surreal mixture of divine sadness.
For she is a magnificent mute musician in love.
With her heart of wood, she plays out her
She melts melodic bliss
Upon my ears
I cannot explain this emotion, but only as an
echo of a sumptuous sound of love.
She sweeps her sinuous sensuality
upon a rill of tangible twine's.
Her cupped palm, caresses a glazed nape
of her deep red Rosewood piece.
Her Fingers, tip-toe and frolic
upon tense tendons,
which inadvertedly, but with
much intention tug the strings of my heart.
She gestures with finesse and elegance,
Cavorting with her passion, waltzing
with her musical therapy.
She is beautiful to observe.
Tingles trickle down the back of my neck,
shivers and quivers of such a juicy feeling.
Sending me into a quagmire of goose bumps.
In her zealous state of being,
she expresses powerful emotions,
perspiring pain and joy
such a vision of exhilaration.
She plays as if she has no senses at all!
I so, so desire to join her, but this is her moment.
Her longed aching to shout, sing, and scream songs.
A somewhat suppressed enigma of feelings
within a silent recess of no existence.
Her hushed voice transmutes into a
rapturous scintillating and charismatic
sound of notes and chords.
Her gusto gushes upon sizzling strings
and she peaks!
Her fiery flurry ends with a subtle twang.
As if it was struck from Cupids bow itself!
A mind blowing phenomena of sight, mind
and pleasured performance.
I am very fortunate, beyond luck to
have been memorably mesmerised..